Aching Acrimony
by hihazuki
Summary: Maybe keeping a promise can't last for over centuries. Maybe a promise has its own expiration date, after all.
1. Prologue: Brilliance in Ashes

They say regret always comes after. I never believed that, since I felt I had no need to. Everything I had done leading up to this day resulted from my own endeavors and what I received equally amounted to the effort I exerted.

Regret was useless. It only wasted time.

That was my unspoken theory.

Now... I finally understood the true meaning behind those words.

It all seemed like a dream. Just a fleeting memory of events seemingly too impossible to happen. In fact, this was an exact rehash of the recent nightmares I endured these past nights.

Only this time the sensation decided to tag along.

It hurt like hell.

"Masamune-sama... we should return."

A slow and tentative voice broke through the eerily thick atmosphere. Not long after, a hand found its way on my shoulder.

Without bothering to turn around, I shook my head slowly, painfully.

He would understand. He practically knew me like the palm of his hand, after all.

True to my expectations, he prodded no further, and withdrew.

Footsteps faded into the distance, and that was when I realized was really, truly alone.

The body I held was as lifeless as a doll. A living, yet dead nightmare resurrected from my dreams.

He wasn't going to come back, was he? Of course not, he was _fucking dead_.

I lost track of my surroundings, and released every tiny ounce of awareness I still possessed over myself.

I didn't care about anything else back then. I didn't care about the alliance with Ieyasu, I didn't care if Mitsunari stood right behind me with his katana poised to stab me to oblivion right there and then, _hell_, I didn't even care if the world ended that very instant.

What really mattered to me was no longer existent.

Wait, no. Scratch that, what in the blazing fires of hell was wrong with me?

Why should I even care?

Since when did _Date Masamune _care about a mere boy whose life he had taken?

Of course it didn't make any sense.

_I don't. I shouldn't care._

_Why should I?_

_He's nothing to me. _

_Just another obstacle in my path to conquering Japan._

_That's why I don't have to care. In the end he's going to get killed off anyway._

_I don't-_

Haha, who did I expect to fool, anyway? It was plain even to the lowliest retard that Yukimura meant nothing short of important to me.

Because he wasn't just anybody.

He was the first one, the only one who excited me, who taught me that war wasn't only about bloody massacre and butchery.

It was probably my first time, too, meeting such an annoying hothead who claimed to wield his fiery spears with passion I thought was unlikely to be had by a single person.

He was surrounded by fire that couldn't simply be doused.

It would travel and lap at others, spreading its heat and ferocity, soon consuming their very beings.

Apparently I also fell victim to this absurdity.

Keeping my cool around someone like him was like attempting to stay cool in an overheating microwave. The fire he possessed were infectious, resembling so much as what he claimed to be the fiery flames burning constantly in his soul. Like it or not, without a means of extinguishing it, fire would devour you whole.

To think that invincible fire would finally be smothered into ashes.

_Ashes. The left overs of its former brilliance._

That was one way I could describe what I had been subconsciously cradling in my arms.

A part of me had accepted the fact he was gone, but the other, more irrational part of me screamed pure denial.

_He's not dead!_

_He can't be!_

Why at that moment I decided to cling to my other foolish part, I still couldn't comprehend until this moment.

"Wake up, you fool. This isn't over yet."

I stood up, my sight only focused on the still figure of my only lifetime rival.

"I'm still not satisfied yet. You're not allowed to die before I've earned that satisfaction!"

Colorful stains of red drenched my entire being.

It was sick, being covered in blood that wasn't your own.

Especially when it was his.

I reached out to grasp at his collar.

"What did I just say, you bastard?"

I shook him, hard.

"I said wake up!"

I tugged him nearer, at almost an eye-level. His eyes were still shut, that peaceful look on his still innocent face.

I was finally going delirious.

"Get up, you imbecile! Or I swear I'll kill you a thousand times over until... until...!"

By then I was no longer aware of my halfhearted threats, and only remembered repeating the same action over and over again, his body complying helplessly to my merciless shaking.

"...-mune! Lord Masamune! Cease your misconducts, this is no proper way to treat the dead!" Before I knew it my hands were pulled away.

Fury shimmered inside me as I glared with my one good eye at the speaker who dared say such words. I wrenched my hands away and pulled on his collar instead. "Watch your tongue, Kojuro! I thought you, of all people, would understand! He's just fooling around with me! Serving me faithfully this entire time does not give you the right to insult others of your own free will!"

"I apologize for my insolence. Do what you will with me, my lord, but you are gravely mistaken to think I would leave you the way you are now."

His voice was ever so calm. It only served to infuriate me even more.

"Bullshit! I don't know what kind of sob story you've got that made you so apathetic but at least show some respect would you? Stop trying to act as if you can mend everything with just your placidity! It's over! This is all over! I've gone and done it, and you just had to rub it in..-!"

"Forgive me for this, Lord Masamune, but you need to snap out of this _now_."

A resounding slap filled the hollow emptiness of the surroundings.

I was already so numb. Either it was due to the degree of pain inflicted that day which extended far past the boundaries of pain and bordered into numbness or I was already acquainted with it so much that it no longer mattered.

I was almost ashamed it didn't sting. I deserved it more than ever.

I could almost hear Nobunaga laughing at me from the pits of hell.

Without moving my head, I let my hands fall limply to my sides, and returned my gaze to the body before me.

"... Stay."

It was vague, I wasn't even sure who I was talking to. A final and futile plea for a person who would no longer remain in my life, or a pathetic apology towards a living companion born from a broken man's leftover dignity.

It was somewhat of a relief that he had already accustomed himself to my erratic behavior.

"Yes, my lord."

~o0o~

"Masamune Date! I hereby challenge you to a duel!"

Countless times he said, always with that signature smile plastered to his face.

Even in less desirable situations, he never ceased to try and provoke me.

"_You aren't getting past me without a fight!"_

And it was a fight he got. Like the war savage I was, I indulged in every single whim of his.

I enjoyed it. There was no greater pleasure than fighting those with passion and conviction in their blades, and it made them seem the more fun to beat the hell out of.

To my utter surprise, he wasn't all talk. He was able to deflect every carefully aimed jab, dodged at all the crucial times and countered efficiently. He had his bark as well as bite. He was a raging tiger.

None of whose likes I have ever seen before.

He gradually became so compellingly frustrating that I completely lost my composure and drew all six blades, to the astonishment of my soldiers.

It was a silent declaration. By drawing all six _katanas_, I had claimed myself a worthy and formidable opponent.

I was quite well known for not letting those who pique my interest escape so easily.

As luck would have it, he had no intentions of letting me go either.

Eventually our fights escalated to breathtakingly new heights and splendor. Intensity grew with each encounter. We held back less.

Every time we met, we would always be better than before. It became an unspoken rule for us to fight at each given opportunity.

I also noticed the more I fought him, the more he revealed about himself.

Though a picture may be worth a thousand words, an action is worth a million.

Even with a basic and simple swipe of his spear, he expressed himself in countless ways, not even worthy of words.

The way he lands on his feet, the way his body bends over when he sidesteps my blow.

I had memorized his every move by then, and so had he with mine.

And so we moved in perfect synchronicity, in a harmony absolutely none could compare to. For those rare moments, it felt as if the world belonged to us and only the two of us.

But nothing would have prepared us for that moment.

Death was indeed definite, but it was dreadfully unforeseeable.

Just when I felt that all the puzzles were finally in place, and things couldn't get any better, death only felt like a dream. Sadly, it had the uncanny ability to take away that person to whom you were closest to in one instant.

"Masamune... thank you."

My arms reached out for him subconsciously as he collapsed.

Surprisingly, my face hadn't betrayed my feelings. It stayed stoic and impassive.

Inside, however, existed a raging emotion that even I couldn't identify.

He pulled me down with him, his fingers weakly latching on to me.

"You don't know... how happy you've made me. This kind of feeling... it's irreplaceable. It's a different happiness that I only get when... I'm fighting you."

His other hand clutched his wound; a katana had planted itself firmly through him.

My mind absentmindedly registered that the one who caused that fatal wound was me.

A slip of the hand. There were no other excuses I could make up for this incident. Overrun with blinding rage that he would dare ally himself with Mitsunari, I lost all rationality.

Now all was quiet, none of the opposing factions were to be seen. The outcome of the battle was a mystery, yet I couldn't care less.

This was my punishment.

Blood seeped through and smothered my clothes. The irony smell of pungent blood filled my senses.

I couldn't speak. It was like I forgot how.

He was smiling.

Despite his lethal injuries, he kept that god-damned smile on his face. Acted like it was no big deal. That it was going to happen sooner or later.

"I have... one last request."

He coughed once, and tried vainly to cover up a series of hacking that followed shortly after. Blood trickled from his mouth.

"Whatever will happen to this body after I go... I want you to do it. Show my clan that... the One-Eyed Dragon... has bested the Tiger Cub... of Kai." By now the tears running down his face were blatantly obvious. I had the compelling urge to wipe them off, but held back.

I would not show my weakness to a mere cub, even when it was moribund.

His arm trembled feebly towards one of his spears lying forlornly on the ground, and encased it in my hand.

"Bury my spears for me... so people would not know how much... torment Sanada Yukimura has caused... to those he had not meant to cause harm to. These spears will no longer have... to take any more innocent lives. It will finally rest... in peace."

Shortly after I caught a glimpse of a name he uttered to himself, something like _Oyamada-san_, but I was in too much of a stupor to ponder on who he was referring to.

It was raining, wasn't it? What an ironically appropriate way to serve as the final factor of dousing the sparks and flickers of a previously glorious flame.

Drops of liquid dampened my hair and ran down my face. Some fell on his face.

A frail, blood-stained hand stroked my cheek too gently for my liking.

"... There are tears on your face..."

_It's just the rain, you halfwit._

_Just the rain, nothing more._

Strangely enough, he only smiled solemnly, and questioned me no further.

This led me to think that the battle of contradiction inside me revealed itself on my face.

"I can't express my gratitude to you enough. I only wish... we could have met sooner. Or maybe under different circumstances."

His hazel eyes went unfocused for a brief moment before his eyelids fluttered.

"I... only tried to do what I... believed was right. I wanted to see... what Lord Shingen saw in... Ieyasu. I thought... that by allying with his... true adversary, it would have made the process... quicker. But now, it doesn't really matter... anymore. If I had to die by anyone's hands, I'd... I'd want it to be you."

For the last time that day, that month, and all the following years, we locked gazes.

He opened his mouth to say something else, but decided against it as the words dissolved into violent coughing.

"... I guess this is it, then. I hope that sometime in the afterlife we can meet again, Masamune."

It sounded utterly and hopelessly ridiculous. It had to be the poorest effort I've ever seen a person exert to look as if he was perfectly fine.

But who was the bigger fool that yearned to believe such nonsense?

"... It's a promise, then."

I couldn't believe the words just spilled out of my mouth like that. Whatever reaction I displayed, it was already too late.

Pure joy radiated from his pale features as he let his eyelids close, for the last time.

That childish expression of genuine contentment stayed on his face even when he passed on, and only then was I able to admit that I had been shedding tears.

He was gone... for good.

~oOo~

**I have no idea what I just wrote, and I have no idea where this is going. Please bear with me.**

**I plan for this to be a two-shot, or maybe a three-shot, depending on how many plot bunnies can approach me. **


	2. Amaranthine Retribution

**I never thought this story would have any favorites/alerts at all. Thank you, guys! And for you reviewers, keep' em coming!**

**I just hope you didn't place your expectations too high, though...  
**

~o0o~

"_Shit_."

This headache was killing me. Yukimura—and all that came with him—came flooding back to me a few days ago. It happened a couple of centuries ago. I wasn't an avid believer of the existence of previous reincarnations, but as the memories surged through me at that particular time, I knew I had lived another lifetime before mine.

"Lord Masamune, are you all right?"

Kojuuro, who I thought was just a typical guardian, turned out to be more than I had bargained for prior to this life. I had no other words to call it. Call me cheesy, but the strings of fate have their own ways of tying us all back together, no matter in what time. Too bad his loyally adherent demeanor which bordered to the point of exasperation resurfaced along with his memories.

Not that he was any less conservative to begin with. This is Kojuro, after all.

"I'm fine."

"Are you sure?"

Rhetorical question. Time to get to the point.

"... I saw him today."

"_Him_, my lord?"

"Ever the faithfully clueless guardian, aren't you? The new transfer student I'd talked about last night. And I thought I told you to cut it with the honorifics. We're not the way we used to be, you know?"

"My apologies... Masamune."

I only nodded and began walking ahead, eyes front but mind scattered.

He was here... in flesh. He looked more alive than ever. I couldn't believe it. There was no mistaking it, either.

He smiled jovially as he introduced himself in front of the class. His arms waved around ardently as he gave a full-blown description of himself, more than was actually necessary.

Those hazel eyes were bright, lively. His voice was threateningly loud and amiable.

I hated him instantly for being so blissfully ignorant.

That carefree, childish innocence he was radiating around him.

It was nostalgic, but also too painstakingly familiar. Previous guilt washed over me again and again, each wave greater than before.

I couldn't handle it anymore.

Without another word, I stood up, caring little for subtlety, and without warning, a violent throbbing in my right temple made me almost keel over on my desk.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

"Masamune? Are you sick?" The teacher's mildly concerned voice reached my ears. It did nothing to soothe my condition.

I growled in response, "I'm not feeling well. Excuse me."

I packed hurriedly, made my way to the door and was about to slide it open when _he _spoke.

"M-Masa... mune...?"

The vulnerability of his voice and my evergrowing curiosity bubbling inside me made it all too tempting.

I had spontaneously vowed to myself not to make eye contact in any way whatsoever with the boy at first sight.

But when I finally gave in and looked back, his face wasn't as clueless and blank as I had thought it to be.

It was like looking at a maze of emotions.

Those I could clearly make out; _pain, confusion, sorrow_.

Was he remembering?

"You know each other, Sanada?"

"...N-No, I-"

That was the last I heard before I stormed out of the room, not looking back.

He said no.

He didn't remember me. It was a relief, but weighed heavily in me as soon as I realized that meant...

The promise had long been neglected.

There was no denying that I had the most tenuous of hope that he might somehow remember. As I said, there had always been this more foolish side of me -the one that absolutely rebelled against reality- vying for dominion.

But then again, what did I hope to earn by adhering to a promise that was downright chimerical? It was as good as dead.

"Kojuro... I don't think I'm up for this."

His gaze was questioning. He hadn't the slightest clue of what I meant, that was for sure.

A voice echoed in the distance, calling my name.

Speak of the devil.

His face twisted into carefully masked surprise and horror.

"The new transfer student is...!"

"So what do you think, Kojuro?" I smirked, while inwardly holding back a grimace. "Should I run for it, or stand my ground?" My heartbeat beat harder and faster with footsteps closing in fast.

What should I say? How should I react?

Why the hell is he approaching me?

By any means I did absolutely nothing to draw his attention particularly on me. Was faking sickness a bad move? Right, maybe I shouldn't have done that. But it was all too sudden, too soon. How was I going to react other than escaping?

Damn, he wasn't going to pin me as a coward now, would he?

It was a last minute decision, and I held in my breath before realizing that Kojuro hadn't responded, or maybe I hadn't heard, but either way I looked back to where he should have been standing only _to find another completely different _face staring back at me, eyes more or less having that authentic and frankly annoying inquisition.

Failure to process any form of thought left me in an absorbed stupor for a few moments.

I could have plunged him back to the _Sengoku _Era out of pure, unadulterated shock and horror but thankfully I had it in me to restrain myself. My self-consciousness very nearly threw itself out of the window when all I could do was form half-baked thoughts of _how_, and _why_, but mostly wondering about how long it took me to make a decision.

"... Are you all right... Masamune?"

If there was any sliver of doubt that the person right in front of me was real, it vanished instantly.

"What do you want, _transfer student_?" I emphasized the last part to make it seem as if I honestly had no idea who the hell he was and couldn't care any less of what he wanted.

This Yukimura caught my allusion pretty well. "O-oh, well... I saw that you weren't feeling well this morning and...I assumed you needed help."

I scoffed deliberately. Who was this guy fooling? "You're sorely mistaken if you think I would need help, especially one coming from you."

From the corner of my eye I tried to spot Kojuro, but he was nowhere to be seen.

That damnable traitor. How could he have disappeared into thin air so fast?

"-to help you." He finished.

I blinked, uncomprehending. His words flew by too fast.

"What?"

He looked slightly exasperated, but what annoyance he had was quickly replaced by his headstrong tenacity. "I said, let me help you. Or did I do something so wrong that you feel disgusted by even my presence?"

Not exactly true nor false. "It doesn't matter. Just go home."

I turned my back towards him, effectively putting an end to the conversation, and proceeded on my way.

Or so I had expected.

The blatant sound of his feet walking on pavement couldn't make it clearer that he was following me home. "Where do you live, Masamune?"

My head throbbed, and I was pretty sure a vein nearly popped in my temple. I had forgotten how he could be sometimes. So persistent and nagging.

"Do you mind?" I spoke through clenched teeth. "Have you any consideration for others who prefer to be left alone?"

_It's because you don't know, you've forgotten everything._

_You get to live your ignorant life for granted, going about as you please, without a care in the world._

_Me? I'll get the pleasurable honor of living with this sin for the rest of my life, and for the many lives to come. This is my punishment._

_Amaranthine retribution._

"If you ask me, I think you do need help. You push people away, telling them to mind their own business, even though being left alone is the last thing you need." The words came tumbling out of his mouth like marbles.

I whirled back to glare at him, and had the violent urge to do a lot of things at once. Most of them including bloodshed. I would have lost it just then; just seeing him talk to me like that, thinking he knows everything.

I must have looked purely livid to him just then, because the next thing he did was stutter unceremoniously and fidget. "Forgive me! I know I spoke out of place. I don't even understand what I'm talking about, myself. Call me nuts, but when I first saw you this morning in class, I had this really strange feeling. Like,"

He gulped, his brows stitching together, as if doubting himself. "Like I've met you...before?" His eyes looked to mine, and from it I could see desperation. He was searching for a reaction, an affirmation, a signal that I felt the same way, and that he wasn't a psycho after all.

And that maybe we'd both realize we were long-lost siblings or some other foolish crap he surely would have thought up, and go along our merry way.

His mind was that simple. Unfortunately, I denied him that satisfaction.

"I don't know you." I took a sharp but inaudible intake of breath. "...Now get lost."

His face, strange to say, was unreadable. "I see."

He backed away slowly, his head slightly sulking.

I turned again for the last time, not stopping the sense of relief settling in my stomach.

It would have spread if it wasn't for the idiot's last remark.

"...But I'm afraid backing down now is out of the question. I hope you wouldn't mind me bothering you for a little while longer until I can sort things out, Masamune. See you tomorrow!"

I cursed.

~o~

"You seem to be in a repulsive mood, Lord Masamune."

Water dripped down the strands of my hair as I dried it with a towel, scratching my scalp with force a little more than necessary.

I landed hard on the couch, trusting it to hold my weight comfortably, yet it still did not stop it from squeaking in protest. I clearly lacked my usual cool demeanor tonight.

"That ain't clear enough for you, Kojuro? I think you'll be happy to know that you're part of the reason why I'm like this." I handed my waterlogged towel to his patiently outstretched hand.

He turned his back as he hung the towel to dry on a nearby shelf. "I only did what I trust was the best course of action."

Presumptuous guardian. "Really? By leaving your master behind in what could be well classified as potential jeopardy?"

I could sense amusement behind his stoic tone. "Sanada is hardly one to be referred to as dangerous. Furthermore, I believe you kept insisting not to be treated as a master."

"Screw that, you're still calling me with the honorifics anyway."

I let my eyes close as the smell of dark cocoa wafted into my nostrils. Ah, the smell of rich, dark caffeine. I added, "You knew things would go awry."

"That was a risk that I had to take. There was no other choice." He turned back to me and handed me a steaming cup of dark chocolate, gesturing for me to be mindful of the heat.

"You cannot keep tormenting yourself with these memories of yours. There is a limit to your endurance. You do realize there will come a day when you are obliged to face them, regardless of your alacrity."

The warmth of the cup, bordering on searing hot, tingled my senses and slowly began scorching my hands the longer I held them.

Reminded me of him. "I suppose you mean today."

"Not only today," he spoke with an undefined wisdom that belied his years. "But for many days to come. Until you can overcome this adversity."

_Not only today, but for many days to come_.

The sentence unwillingly stuck in my head, even until the next day when I listlessly sat down in class.

It wasn't strange of Kojuro to pop out uncannily wise phrases every once in a while. It usually happened when I needed it, anyway.

Like most of the times he advised me, this time I had a feeling it was right. It rarely wasn't.

Even a part of me seemed to agree with the suggestion. It was best to get this over with. No point in prolonging the suffering.

I could spill everything to Yukimura, proceed on to the gratifying expression of contrite, exchange heartfelt vows of _not-going-to-let-it-happen-again_, and going back to...being whatever it was be had been before. Allies? Rivals?

No, not going to be that easy.

I let out a mirthless chuckle, earning myself a few unnerved glances from those around me.

The door slid open, and in sauntered the headroom teacher, hands rapping against the chalkboard, demanding for reciprocated attention.

Before lessons even began, yawns were already heard, most discernible was those of a gruff, thick-headed—and took up too much space to preferably be of any use—Motochika Chosokabe.

The hare-brained brute was already sprawled out like a dead carcass beside me. It was only a matter of time before the chalk came flying.

Simply put, it was just another day in the typical school life of Date Masamune. Nothing new, just the same old, same old.

The door screeched open, shattering the placidity of the morning's routine on goings.

It was enough to even wake the big oaf Motochika, I observed silently, as the aforementioned literally jumped in his seat as the sound pierced his ears.

It would have been partially amusing, if it wasn't _him_ that came in right then through the door, face sheepish and hair ludicrously disheveled.

As with every late student that occurred occasionally, a lecture was immediately hurled his way, which he took with frantic gestures, a panicked look crossing over his slovenly childish features, flinging back apologies in rapid succession with every harsh admonishment that came his way.

What made it different was that when normally the students would only respond with a halfhearted apology and drag their feet to their designated chairs, he would soak up the censure and respond with none the less stentorian tone to justify himself, and neither student nor teacher felt like losing.

Soon their voices began to escalate, each absorbed in their aimless bickering.

The class seemed to take a liking to this new change in atmosphere, as they began to come alive, laughter rekindling from their dormant state. Some only watched, gawking at the two idiots in front, but a whole lot of the class egged them on, some even betting on who would come out on top.

I took in the sight. It tugged on my conscience to know that Yukimura was the one who caused all of this. With only his presence alone, he managed to reinvigorate the classroom.

I couldn't resist the tiny smile that came to my face. Unfortunately, I had the feeling that no one else could do what he did without even trying.

It felt somewhat reassuring to know he hadn't changed at all.

"Okay, that's enough." The teacher panted, positively drained. "Owing to the fact that this is only your second day here, I will overlook this record. You can get away with your _'adjusting-to-the-environment'_ excuses, just this once. But if this were to happen again, I will ensure that—"

"I assure you this won't happen again, Mr. Shimazu," he cut in, breathing equally as hard as his much older counterpart. "You have my word, and my Lord's for this matter."

"Very well," he replied, looking mildly irritated that he had been interrupted another time. "Now I would advise you to move now, lest I change my mind. We don't have all day!"

He gestured gruffly in my direction, and with a bow of his head, Yukimura headed my way.

My way.

I raised my eyebrow, and suddenly remembered something.

The seat right next to the window was vacant, which also happened to be next to where I was sitting.

Which happened to be the only vacant seat left.

The revelation left a heavy feeling in my abdomen as I tried to suppress a groan. Of all the ways to begin the day, and I'm already thrust with the callow amnesiac.

True to my expectations, he waded through the throng of tables to the one next to me. It would have been better if he had just dumped his ass on the chair and keep his mouth shut, but seeing how this is Yukimura, he just had to go and say it.

"Morning, Masamune! How are you feeling?" and brought twenty-or-so pairs of prying eyes on to me.

Of course, it would come as a surprise for anyone to see the overzealous and vivacious socialite associating with a remarkably austere and cynical delinquent, otherwise known as the infamous Date Masamune.

As I glowered in response at the overly friendly greeting, I also thought of the inevitable future where he would, beyond shadow of a doubt, continue to unperceptively tarnish my reputation, in which I had already grown perfectly comfortable with.

He's going to mess up everything that I've been constructing all these years, and reduce it all to ash and rubble.

Ash.

Ironic how I'm saying this again centuries later after I killed him, only this time I'm referring to myself.


End file.
